A Fortunate Encounter
by beaute-ephemere
Summary: Drving home at midnight, Hermione's car breaks down. Luckily, a familiar face will come to her rescue. / Written for the Houses Competition Year 3


**House : Slytherin**

 **Position : Year 2**

 **Category : Standard**

 **Prompt : [Time] 12:24**

 **Word Count : 1072**

Hermione Granger was driving in the middle of the night when she heard what sounded like a dying Augurey in her engine. _This can't be good,_ she thought to herself. Cursing her bad luck, she pulled over on the side of the road. She took a torch from her glovebox, got out of the car, and had a look at the engine. It was not a pretty sight - smoke, melted plastic, dead insects - and Hermione knew it wouldn't start up again. _Blasted rentals._ She checked her phone : no battery. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she wondered what on earth she was going to do.

That was when it started to rain.

Hurrying back into the relative safety of her car, she asked herself why on earth she had agreed to go wandless for a week. The whole idea sprung from some article Ginny had read in a magazine about how being less dependent on your wand helped reset your system and balance your magic - in short, absolute rubbish. Hermione had gone along with it to humour her friend, and she was deeply regretting her decision. Not only was she stranded with no possibility of Apparating away, she couldn't even defend herself against whatever creeps would be driving around at this hour.

She glanced down at her watch. 12:24 AM. Just great. She was supposed to be driving back down to London - she had been at a work event in Wales all weekend. The roads were almost empty, and her chances of being picked up by someone who was not a serial killer were looking extremely slim when she heard the soft purr of an engine in the distance. Gathering up her courage and allowing hope to blossom in her chest, she pulled her hood over her head and ventured out into the cold December rain to await her savior.

A white Porsche came into view, and she waved her arms at it, praying for the driver to stop. It slowed down, but just as it reached her, it accelerated off, drenching her in water as it went. Soaking wet and very cold, Hermione felt tears well up in her eyes in desperation. Then, she heard a screech. She looked up, and to her astoundment, the car had done a U-Turn and was coming back towards her. It stopped right in front of her.

"You going to London?" a voice called from inside. " Get in, I don't have all night."

Still in shock, Hermione could only nod. Remembering where she was, she quickly turned back to her car, grabbed her bag, phone, and car keys, and jumped into the passenger seat of the Porsche. _I wonder why he turned back. I really hope he isn't a psychopath,_ she thought to herself. As the car sped off, she noticed who was driving.

"Blaise _Zabini_?"

"The one and only," he answered. "And I don't think you're in a position to be an arse about it."

"I - uh - no, of course not! I just didn't peg you for the kind of guy who picks up hitchhikers."

"Funny, I thought you were going to comment on me using Muggle inventions."

"I - actually, it doesn't strike me as that strange. Let me guess : your wand was confiscated for a year or something after the war, wasn't it? And it was a period of extreme vigilance, so Floo was tightly regulated. You had to get around somehow. So you drove. And then you really enjoyed it. I've never understood the obsession, but a lot of people do. Thus, even when other options became available again, you chose to drive from time to time."

"Incredible. Shame you're so incredibly wrong. I could get around and enjoy myself doing it, in another, very wizarding way. You forgot about brooms, Granger. "

Hermione shuddered. "I generally try to. I _despise_ heights."

"Anyway, I drive because I like having nice, valuable things and these metal boxes are bloody expensive. Just another way to show off."

"Why you would ever admit to that out loud, I have no idea."

"That, Hermione - I can call you Hermione, right - is because you haven't met my ego."

"I - uh - okay. I'm still pretty confused as to why you stopped."

"Hey! Don't think I'm that nice - I did drench you first."

"Yeah. That was kind-of a jerk move, by the way."

"I had my reasons."

"Which were?"

"A magician never tells. Also, I need to pull into a service station. I'm low on petrol."

"Sure. By the way, I can drive if you're tired."

"Yeah, not happening. Look what you did to your car. Not taking that risk with mine."

"That wasn't my fault!"

"Shh - save that discourse for the insurance company."

"I - oh, the service station is just to the left. You have to turn right there."

"So I do," he replied, turning to the left.

Once the tank was refilled, Blaise asked if Hermione would mind grabbing a coffee. "I'm low on energy," he explained.

"Oh, sure," she replied.

Once they were seated, sipping on their disgusting, oily coffee, she turned to him. "Are you going to tell me why you soaked me earlier?" she enquired.

He glanced at her, and his lips twisted into a smirk. "I wacked up the heating so that you'd take off your sweater, and I was _praying_ that the t-shirt underneath would be transparent from the water."

"Well, after that pathetic confession, I can tell you something that definitely isn't wet."

"Feisty. I like it." He smiled, his eyes sparkling in the neon lighting. "Shame you're lying."

"You're the Slytherin, remember."

"Indeed. And we're _extremely_ good at getting what we want. And, Ms. Granger, you're exactly what I want."

"Laying it on a little thick, are you?"

"Well, it's working," he smirked.

"You're repulsive, Zabini. Just because you look like a grecian god doesn't mean _every_ woman wants to sleep with you."

"Please, call me Blaise. Or some very sexual pet name, your choice. And maybe not _every_ woman, but you do."

"I don't, and we should probably get going."

"Sure you don't want to hook up?"

"Yes."

"Well, there's still another two hours on the road before we reach London. No one's ever resisted the Zabini charm that long."

"Game on, _Blaise._ "

"Damn, I was really hoping you'd go with the pet name. Well, we ought to get going. It's going to be a long, sleepless night."


End file.
